Past and Present: The Lockwood Academy

A look at Brooklyn, then and now.

Two teachers at the prestigious Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute named Aaron Chadwick and Dr. Edward Bunker decided to quit their jobs and open their own boy’s school. The year was 1862, and even as the Civil War raged on, Brooklyn continued to grow, as did its population of upper middle class and wealthy families. The two men saw a growing pool of eligible male students available, and so opened a private elementary school on Adelphi Street in Fort Greene. They had 60 boys enrolled the first semester. However, after six months, they found out that owning an elite school was great, but running it was beyond them, and they returned to teaching at Polytech. They had a building and a name, which they sold to a Quaker educator named John Lockwood.

He was a Columbia graduate and a gifted scholar in the fields of astronomy and mathematics. He had been the editor of the Brooklyn Home Journal and had published several series of articles on astronomy for the New York Tribune. Even though he was a Quaker, he had volunteered to serve in the Union Army, and served with Brooklyn’s 23rd Regiment, seeing battle against General Robert E. Lee in Pennsylvania.

Lockwood re-opened the Adelphi Academy, which understandably had lost most of its students. His first class had eleven boys, eight of whom were from Chadwick and Bunker’s school. His partner in the institution was Truman J. Ellinwood, who was a graduate of a physical culture school in Boston. Both Lockwood and Ellinwood believed that physical exercises were key to a parallel development of mind and body. Daily light calisthenics were a part of the school’s routine, an activity that Lockwood would retain for the rest of his career. The school also had a rigorous academic program, with an emphasis on moral values as well as intellectual achievement. Their enrollment soon doubled, tripled, and multiplied yet again.

The school was incorporated by the Board of Regents in 1869, and became one of the pet projects of Charles Pratt, the wealthy industrialist head of the Astral Oil Company, and soon-to-be founder of Pratt Institute. He donated land and money that enabled Adelphi to move to new buildings being built on Lafayette Avenue at St. James Place. The cornerstone of the new school was laid by none other than Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, who took the opportunity to advocate for co-educational education. Adelphi admitted girls that next year, in 1870.

Lockwood and Ellinwood had incorporated the school in 1869, and thus gained a board of directors with many more people trying to mold the school into what they thought it should be. Lockwood found himself competing with some powerful and persuasive personalities in the form of Pratt and other board members. In 1870, dissatisfied with his standards being compromised, he handed in his resignation. He met with board members and parents, and all agreed that he should open a private school of his own in the neighborhood. Many of his student’s parents helped fund his next move.

The Lockwood Academy was originally across the street from the building in the photograph of the left, at 139-141 South Oxford. It soon became too small, and Lockwood bought the large old mansion at 138-140 South Oxford Street. He hung a large sign across the building with the name, telling people that he wanted even the youngest children walking down the street to know where his school was. Lockwood was an excellent teacher and administrator, and his school soon drew in both boys and girls from the elite families of Fort Greene and Clinton Hill.

Lockwood was by all accounts a kindly and gentle man, but he had strict and unyielding standards for both students and teachers. Every teacher had a copy of his “Book of Discipline; A Manual for Teachers.” In it he insisted that teachers arrive early in the morning to prepare their lesson plans, wipe clean the chalkboards, sharpen their pencils and get ready to inspect the students when they arrived. Perhaps because of his Civil War experience, he insisted that every school day begin with a teacher’s inspection of students’ feet. Damp feet had to be dried before any lessons commenced.

Each teacher was instructed to live by the motto of “Be Thorough.” Lockwood believed that all school problems, academic and personal, could be resolved if teachers took the time to identify and nip problems in the bud, as well as be observant to personal issues that could affect his students. Even though these were the children of privilege, and may not have issues of hunger or deprivation, they still could have problems that could affect their studies and their lives. He was well ahead of his time. But the price for a student caught lying was unyielding. He or she would be immediately dismissed from the school.

He couldn’t do this alone, of course. He soon hired a very competent assistant, Miss Emma J. Carr. She was also a teacher at the school, as was her sister. Both ladies had come to Brooklyn from Boston, with Miss Carr beginning her teaching career in White Plains. He first job there had her facing a class of 65 pupils. She was only 18. She heard about the Lockwood Academy, and found Mr. Lockwood’s small school to be perfect for her. She was his assistant and fellow teacher for 26 years.

John Lockwood died in 1901. He had retired several years prior due to ill health, and at his retirement, deeded the school; building and all, to Miss Carr and her sister. They ran the school for another twenty some years. It continued to be one of Brooklyn finest and most well-regarded small private schools until the end. Miss Carr, who never married, was a teacher’s teacher, and was beloved by generations of students who came back years later to sing her praises. She, her sister Mary, and another teacher, Miss Dummig made up the teaching staff.

In 1928, after teaching for 57 years, 75 year old Miss Emma Carr retired in 1926. She had been a teacher at Lockwood for all but one of those years. She and her sister closed the school, and sold the property. They knew it would probably be torn down. She was interviewed by the Brooklyn Eagle in 1928, during which time she admitted that she had personally taught thousands of children over the course of her career. She reminisced about the ones who came back to her as adults, asking if she remembered teaching them some of the greatest moral lessons in their lives.

She remembered one boy who had stolen an apple from a grocer, who approached her in tears with the fruit still in hand, not knowing how to correct his fault. She took him to the grocer and had him pay the penny that the apple cost, along with an apology. He came back years later, thanking her. Another boy had accompanied her on a trolley ride to run errands. She was appalled at his lack of manners. When they returned, she had him sit in the only chair in the room, and told him to imagine he was on the trolley. She entered the room several times before he finally jumped up and offered her his seat. Miss Carr told the reporter that the lesson never left him.

When news of the school’s closing was announced, former students from all over gathered to honor Ellen and Mary Carr. They collected a bag of gold coins worth $700 and presented it to them at a large ceremony and party in their honor. Over 50 years of students gathered at this event. Miss Carr told reporters that she had retired not because she was tired of children or 75 years old, but because she wanted to be able to travel and attend concerts, lectures and improve her mind.

Although 75, she still had the looks and energy of a woman who was much younger. She attributed it to her vegetarian diet. She and her sister had been vegetarians for years. “Human carnivorism,” she called eating meat. “It’s a violation of both physical and moral law, and any truth based on the principal of justice and mercy must prevail. It is slowly dawning on mankind that our bodies are not fitting sepulchers for the interment of the mortal remains of kindred animals.”

The Carr sisters sold the school property to Mrs. P. M. Edelston of Manhattan. She sold the property to the Visiting Nurse Association of New York. They tore down the school and built their Brooklyn headquarters here. The project was funded by an anonymous donor. The building was designed by the firm of Clark & Arms. John Taylor Arms had been an associate at the firm of Carrere and Hastings, and is best known today as the “Dean of American Etchers” for his artistic work, especially in renderings of Gothic architecture. The building is in the Colonial Revival style of architecture.

Today, the building is owned by the Alliance of Resident Theaters, which operates Off and Off-Off Broadway theaters. 22 small and midsized theater companies use the space for offices, rehearsals and storage. The South Oxford Space, as it is now called, has kitchen and mail room facilities and rents rooms for rehearsals, meetings and performances. They also host events for the children of the Fort Greene and greater Brooklyn community. GMAP